Seeds of a Rose
by Settiai
Summary: A conversation in a garden about the past, the present, and what the future might hold. [Based on Stealing Fire, by Jo Graham.]


I did not know what to expect when I arrived at Thais's door.

Three days had passed since Ptolemy had made his request of me, asking me to take Chloe as my wife, and a part of me knew that I should have visited Thais before now. Her friendship was something I had learned to cherish, and Chloe was her daughter. Ptolemy would not have made such an important decision without speaking to her.

It was time that I did the same.

Her garden was as lovely as it had been the last time I had come to visit her, and the trees she had planted seemed taller than I remembered. They were still not tall enough to comfortably shade someone in the heat of the day, but they were trying. The roses were in full bloom, filling the air with their fragrance.

Thais came forward to greet me, her veil about her shoulders and a carefully neutral look on her face.

"My lady," I said, inclining my head toward her in greeting. "It has been too long."

"Lydias," she replied, her eyes carefully trained on me. There was a sharpness in them that I was not surprised to see. "Yes, it has. I was not expecting to see you here today."

I did not flinch, but it was with some difficulty. Her tone made it clear that she had expected to see me sooner.

"My apologies," I said, meeting her gaze. "I have been arranging for work to begin on my new home, and it has kept me busy the past few days."

Thais raised an eyebrow. It was clear that she saw my excuse for exactly what it was.

I smiled weakly at her. "You are aware of what Ptolemy asked of me?"

The carefully blank expression on Thais's face did not change, but for just a moment I saw her eyes flash with an emotion I could not quite recognize. "Do you think Ptolemy would make such a decision without telling me?" 

"No, I know that he would not," I replied immediately. Of that, I was certain. "Still, I suspected you might have your reservations." I let a hint of sheepishness into my voice, the words sounding hollow in my head now that I was prepared to speak them out loud. "There is a possibility I might have let myself be delayed in visiting you."

Thais's eyes flashed again, with something that I almost thought might be amusement. "Oh, Lydias."

I frowned at her, not quite certain how to read the tone of her voice.

"Do you truly think so little of me?" Thais asked me.

"What?" I asked blankly. "Of course I do not. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. You should be well aware of that."

Thais met my gaze straight on, clear and unblinking. "Do you think I do not want what is best for my daughter?"

I stared at her, not even trying to hide my confusion. "No," I replied. "Quite the opposite. I think you want whatever is best for Chloe."

"Then why would you believe I might have reservations about you marrying her?" Thais asked me, a surprising mixture of amusement and exasperation in her voice.

I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. I suspected there was nothing I could say that would put this conversation back on the track that I had expected it to follow.

After a moment of silence, Thais took pity on me. Shaking her head, she led me to the bench that would one day be shaded by the trees growing beside it. We carefully sat at opposite ends of it, and I could not help but be reminded of the last time we had sat together in this garden. There was no sign of Chloe this time, however, not that I had expected there to be.

"You are a good man, Lydias," Thais said suddenly. "Is it truly so surprising to you that both Ptolemy and I believe you will be a good husband for Chloe?"

I hesitated before replying. "I am twenty years her senior," I said slowly, trying to place my words as carefully as I could. I couldn't help but glance down at my hand. "Considering the circumstances, I would understand if-"

"Lydias," Thais said, cutting me off.

I stared at her, surprised by the breach of etiquette. My mind flashed back to the first time I had ever seen her, how I saw Athena's touch on her just as much as that of Aphrodite. She was older, but she still held that fire within her.

"If I did not believe you would be a good husband to my daughter, I would not have given my assent to the marriage," she told me quite firmly. "And do you truly believe Ptolemy would have asked you to do this if that had been my answer?"

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. "Only a fool would believe such a thing," I told her.

"Then does that mean you will put aside these worries?" Thais asked me, her eyes compassionate.

I nodded in acquiescence, not quite trusting myself to say anything else. The way our conversation had been going, I suspected anything I said would make things worse.

Thais smiled as if she could read my thoughts. "You will marry Chloe," she said gently, "and one day you will tell my grandchildren stories about the older brother they never knew."

My throat grew tight. She inclined her head, ever so slightly, and I nodded mine in return.

Neither of us spoke for a moment, the silence companionable rather than tense. Then Thais sighed, a quiet sound that I would not have heard if it had been later in the day and the bustle of the city around us a bit louder.

"Chloe is almost a maiden," Thais said quietly, and I thought that I heard a hint of sadness in her voice. "You will wed her soon enough. I would ask, as a favor to me and our friendship, that you wait to take her to your bed. Let her be ready."

I looked over and met her gaze, holding it. "I already made that promise to Ptolemy. I will gladly make it to you as well. I would not do that to her."

Thais smiled at me. "And that," she said softly, "is why we asked this of you."


End file.
